


Distance and Dads, Stars and Sons

by impossiblepluto



Series: Project Gemini [4]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gemini AU, Gen, Parental Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), child!Mac (except not because the child is AJ), insomni-AJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25506457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: All Jack wants is for his insomniatic boy to sleep.Part of Project Gemini, alongside violetvaria's Gemini AU
Series: Project Gemini [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817443
Comments: 34
Kudos: 39





	Distance and Dads, Stars and Sons

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, insomniatic is apparently not a word, but it is an album from Aly & AJ Michalka (Aly played Frankie in 1x19 Compass, and _AJ!_ ) which I feel is the universe giving me permission to use it. 
> 
> This story is part of the Project Gemini AU and goes hand in hand with violetvaria's [Gemini AU](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793812)
> 
> Also Violet, I've said it's like you're reading my mind sometimes. You said something to me just today that made me scream because it was exactly what I had been working on

Jack bites back an  _ oof _ as a knee connects with his middle section. Swallowing down the frustration that blooms with the repeated blows. 

They’re not strong enough to hurt. He’s taken worse, strung up by his wrists and toes barely scraping the ground.

He’s taken worse sparring with Mac.

It’s just being startled by the tiny hands, knees, and feet that gouge into his belly, chest, and legs. And it's watching helplessly as AJ shifts, restless and unsettled. Flipping from back to front. Side to side. Kicking feet that tangle in the confines of his sleep-sack. 

The last several nights have been mostly sleepless. Jack’s learned to live on cat-naps and coffee over the years so he doesn’t feel the effects as strongly, but watching his boy toss and turn, sighing in irritation instead of the contentment of slumber hurts his heart. 

The boy had a knack for sleeping anywhere, or so Jack thought. Easily drifting off in the backseat, numerous motel rooms, even a bathtub on occasion. He’s like Mac in that respect. When Mac is ready to sleep - which isn’t often enough in Jack’s opinion - he can do it anywhere.

They’ve had a few restless nights over the last couple of months. A stretch of too many days in the car and not enough fresh air or exercise. The early days when AJ was too on edge with the ever-changing environment after years in the monotony of a lab, and uncertain of his relationship with Jack. Or induced by nightmares that he’s still reluctant to talk about but at least now he’s shifting into Jack’s embrace and allowing himself to be cuddled and comforted. It was agony, those first few when he stared up at Jack with tears he didn’t allow to fall before he finally decided Jack could at least be trusted to wipe them away. 

Mac was the same. Sleep was uneasy if he didn’t have enough stimulation, mental and physical, during the day. Restive when he had too many thoughts swirling in his head. And it took months before he began trusting Jack with his nightmares. Years for some of them. 

But Jack has experience with insomniatic geniuses, and getting a five-year-old to sleep is even easier than getting a twenty-five year old to sleep. At least usually. 

Miserable blue eyes meet his in the dark. 

“Is something upsetting you?” Jack whispers, reaching out to run fingers through AJ’s hair. “Bad thoughts that are keeping you from sleeping?”

AJ gives a tiny shake of his head, so as not to dislodge Jack’s hand. 

Jack’s arsenal of sleep soothing tactics is falling short. 

It happened, on occasion when he had a full-sized Mac to contend with, but this pint-sized one always managed to succumb with Jack’s persistence. 

When it became clear that their nomadic adventure was going to last longer than a few weeks, or even a few months, Jack decided he had to give AJ a home. Normalcy was long out the window for both of them, but the boy needed more than a life in the backseat of a car. 

Not that he complained. He thoroughly enjoyed their cross-country treks, eyes wide as he took in mountains, forests, and rivers. He studied maps and pamphlets they picked up in parks and at tourist information centers, helped plan their route, but he was picking up too much of Jack’s hypervigilance. 

AJ needed the stability of the same house and the same bed to chase away the remnants of unease. He needed meals on a consistent schedule, not when the road finally winded around revealing restaurant choices. He needed structures, freedom, and the chance to be a kid. 

So, Jack spent countless middle of the night hours narrowing down their options. A town, big enough to blend in, small enough to be off the radar. A house, Jack decided, not an apartment, the boy needed room to run. Neighbors close enough to unintentionally help keep an eye out, but not enough to be nosy and in their business. 

A state where school isn’t mandatory at five, so they can push that separation and the inevitable questions down the road a little. AJ is reading far beyond his age level though writing his letters remains a shaky, arduous task as his fine motor skills are still developing. His grasp of math and science is bound to attract attention. 

They settled in easily enough. Jack kept AJ in the same bedroom. They both needed to be close. 

AJ explored the house and the yard and accepted the new environment as quickly as he did all their other rented rooms. For about the first week.

Something changed after that. Waking earlier and earlier, falling asleep later. Quiet and cranky during the day. His appetite fled, picking at his food the same way Mac does when he’s upset about something and his brain is chewing on it. Shrugging his shoulders when Jack asks. 

His mind wanders, worrying about the kid, wondering how the hunt and prolonged separation is affecting him. Knowing Mac, living his life on the edge of a blade is keeping him from getting enough rest and nourishment. 

As much as it pains him, right now he can’t do anything for his kid. But maybe he can help his boy.

Jack rises from the bed, pulling on a sweatshirt and shoving his bare feet into a pair of shoes. AJ watches curiously, before Jack scoops him up, sleep-sack and all and grabs another blanket from the end of the bed. 

“Where are we going?” The words are soft and mumbled as AJ squirms.

Jack shushes, creeping down the hallway, already aware of which floorboards to avoid. “Just a little change of scenery.” 

He opens the backdoor and peers out into the darkness. AJ’s fingers twist into his t-shirt.

The world is still. Quiet in a way that is only found at four in the morning. He listens for a moment before stepping outside. 

Moon-glow is enough to chase away some of the deepest shadows. And there’s the faintest hint of impending dawn, the skies are navy instead of blackest night. Proof that eventually the light will shine on them again. 

As Mac has told him, countless times it’s not darkest before the dawn. 

Jack crosses the porch to the swing. A metal frame without a spot of rust, thrown out by a neighbor after the vinyl seats tore, rendering it useless to anyone who hadn’t spent the better part of a decade with a MacGyver. A few coils of moderate gauge nylon rope strung across the metal frame in a sturdy weave provided support and enough give to make it comfortable. A couple of cushions on top and no one would ever know this swing was rescued before it could make it to a landfill. AJ adored the project, delighted by the rhythmic motion of weaving. Intrigued by the problem-solving. His fingers slip under the cushions, stroking the twisted rope.

And he’s enchanted by the swing itself. Crawling onto it and curling up, dragging Jack out to sit with him after dinner or before breakfast.

Jack settles onto it sideways, one leg stretched out on the seat, the other planted against the ground, rocking them gently. 

AJ snuggles closer, curling up on Jack’s chest. His head positioned over Jack’s heart. Tiny fingers loosen their grip on his t-shirt, delicately tapping out Jack’s heartbeat as has become his habit. He’s not sure how or why AJ picked it up, but he finds comfort in being part of AJ’s self-soothing actions. 

The pre-dawn air is cool and damp. Jack drapes the blanket over them to keep out the chill.

A strand of solar-powered lights glow, strung along the panel of privacy fence that keeps the porch secluded. 

Out here, without the light pollution from huge cities blocking out the skies, the stars burn brighter than Jack’s ever seen them. He’d always thought the ranch was far enough out in the middle of nowhere to get a good view of the universe, but even that has nothing on this. His eyes adjust to the darkness and more stars burst into view. 

There’s a stillness, one that will fade like a dream as the world wakes up. Not a bird, not a cricket chirp. 

“You see the Big Dipper?” Jack asks, tipping his head towards the skies.

AJ nods. 

“And you follow the stars of the bowl up to find the De Nada star, right?”

“Deneb,” AJ corrects.

“Right, it’s the brightest star in the turkey.”

“Swan,” AJ yawns. “The constellation of Cygnus the Swan. Or the Northern Cross.”

“Okay, my little astronaut, go ahead and show off. Tell me about this singing swan.”

AJ gives a bemused huff. “It’s got a binary star for its beak. That means two. But you can’t see two stars unless you’ve got a telescope.”

“Maybe we should get a telescope next so we can do better stargazing.”

“That makes me an astronomer, not an astronaut.” AJ snuggles deeper into Jack’s chest, yawning again. “One of them is yellow and one is blue. They’re so close that they look like they’re one star.”

“Best pair of stars in the whole galaxy.” Jack strokes AJ’s back, coaxing him closer toward sleep. “That’s what NASA said on their Instagram.”

“That’s not what they said. They called them a striking con- contrasting pair.”

“I’m pretty sure they said they were the best,” Jack ducks his head and brushes a kiss against the fluff of AJ’s hair, breathing in the clean scent. 

“NASA doesn’t rank stars.”

“Really? You’re sure?”

“Yes.” 

Jack can hear the annoyance in AJ’s voice. His little asteroid isn’t up for teasing tonight. This morning. Probably because he’s too tired. He’s got to get the boy to relax a little. There’s too much tension in his muscles for a five-year-old.

“Well, even if NASA doesn’t say they’re the best, they sure are pretty,” Jack says quietly. He can feel AJ’s head vibrating with the rumbling in his chest. 

“Yeah,” AJ mumbles. “I like the stars.”

Jack rubs his hand down AJ’s back and shoulder in slow rhythmic strokes, matching the rock of the swing, gently prodding him towards sleep. AJ’s breathing deepens and Jack is hopeful that his boy will drop off soon.

In the stillness, he finds his thoughts drifting. Even at four in the morning, Mac’s neighborhood was never this quiet, and his apartment sure wasn’t. 

He always said Mac looked like a kid when he was sleeping, and now he has visual proof. Hair askew, lines from his pillow etched on his face. Sleepy sighs and mumbles. He wonders if Mac is sleeping now. Did he make it to his bed or did he fall asleep with his head on his desk or on the table near the kitchen while he tinkered with a project? 

Maybe he’s stretched out on the couch of the jet, his spot for the flight home. It took years before Jack convinced him to just give in and lay down. He rarely rested on the in-fil flights and his big, heavy brain deserved the chance to relax on the way home. 

More likely, he’s burning the candle at both ends, working towards eliminating the threat to AJ. Jack hopes Riley and Bozer are with him. And wonders if he thinks of them as much as Jack thinks about him.

That’s not fair. Mac sacrificed just as much for this binary mission. Maybe more. 

The sky is still dark but stars are fading, winking out as the sun inches closer to the horizon. 

“Jack,” AJ’s voice is thick with slumber. “Can we do this in winter too?”

“Well, that might be a little cold. We’ll probably get quite a bit of snow this far north,” Jack learned the hard way not to just make automatic promises to his half-asleep boy thinking he won’t remember them later. 

AJ snuffles in discontent.

“There’s still a couple of months of stargazing left before that though. You don’t have to worry.”

“But these are the summer constellations.”

Jack hums. “Oh yeah, we were reading about that, weren’t we?”

“The ax- axial tilt of the earth changes which constellations are visible.”

Jack beams. His boy is so smart. 

They picked up a book on space at a garage sale a few weeks ago. Even written at a fourth-grade reading level, AJ devoured it. Pouring over photos and asking more questions than Jack could even come up with, which led them to NASA and the Jet Propulsion Lab’s Instagrams. Jack has visions of AJ growing up and working for NASA. But absolutely not taking off in a rocket towards the moon or Mars. 

His boy is going to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground.

AJ asked a lot of questions about the seasons after that too. Seeming disappointed upon hearing they were still in summer but declined to share his thoughts. Jack chalked it up to one of AJ’s many idiosyncrasies as his world expands by leaps and bounds.

“Is there a constellation you’re hoping to see?”

AJ sighs. “The Gemini twins.”

Jack freezes, his muscles rigid with tension and his mind racing. His voice cracks. “Where did ya hear about those?”

AJ gives a small shrug. “They’re me and Mac, right?”

Jack’s flounders. His mouth opens and closes at a loss for words. Then opens again “Yeah, I-” in the list of questions Jack has worried AJ will eventually ask, this wasn’t one of them. He tries again. “Yeah, I guess um, I guess those stars have been used to, uh, describe you guys but…”

“Did you watch stars with him?”

Jack frowns. “A few times,” he begins slowly. “Couldn’t really see them too well back home. Too much light from the city being so close. But I remember he’d point out constellations sometimes when we were camping. We didn’t- until a couple of months ago, we didn’t know about you or the Gemini… uh, connection so I don’t think we ever -”

“Jack,” AJ interrupts in a way that clearly says he has another question to ask.

Jack’s mouth snaps shut, waiting for AJ to formulate his question. 

AJ yawns. Pauses. A pause long enough that Jack shifts just enough to look down as his boy, wondering if somehow he fell asleep before voicing his question 

“What’s- what’s home?”

Jack blinks at the change of topics. It’s not the first time AJ has been tripped up by words Jack takes for granted. Words that a norm- that a child might usually know by AJ’s age. Words like  _ dad _ and  _ picnic _ . 

He can add home to that list apparently.

“Well,” Jack pauses, debating the depth of the answer he wants to give at five o’clock in the morning when he's trying to get his boy to sleep, and wondering what brought on this discussion. “Well, home is, it’s the place where you live. Where you sleep at night and eat and-”

“No. Not like that,” AJ pushes up from Jack’s chest to look into his eyes. 

“Okay…”

“Because we eat and sleep lots of places.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Apple Jack. Home is... well, it’s more than just a place. It’s also being with the people you love, your family.” 

“How… how do you know where home is?” 

Jack licks his lips, feeling flummoxed by the continued questions. “We’ve started a good list, you eat and sleep there, it’s with the people you love and protect. Where you feel safe…”

AJ sighs, dropping his head against Jack’s chest again. 

It’s easy to forget sometimes, that underneath AJ’s brilliance, his grasp of science and his advanced reading level that he’s still a little boy. He doesn’t always have the depth of knowledge or breadth of understanding to express his thoughts. And right now he’s an exhausted, frustrated five-year-old who is up way past his bedtime. 

“I guess I’m not understanding the question right. Can you help me out?” 

“You say ‘back home,’” AJ imitation of Jack’s drawl, causes a smile to twitch on Jack’s lips. “But you also call here home.” AJ gestures broadly. “Which one is home?”

Jack hums to cover the way his breath catches. 

He's trying to be so careful. Giving AJ his own name, his own life. Stay away from nicknames that belong to Mac, though _hoss_ and _kiddo_ are dying to escape his lips. Not assume because Mac loves citrus fruits that is AJ's first choice. Not give him a reason to think Jack is comparing him to Mac. And he messed up in the easiest, most innocuous way. That Mac is home to Jack.  


And he is. 

Home in a way that nothing else can be.

But he wants to bring AJ into that home. Expand the one that exists or create a whole new one. There's enough love in his heart for two, but how does he explain that to a child who until recently, didn't know what love was. Still might not understand. 

“Yeah, that can be kind of confusing. I guess," Jack scratches his head, "maybe sometimes home is... can be more than one place. It's more than a place.” 

“Mac isn’t here,” AJ whispers. 

“No,” Jack takes a sharp breath. His heart stutters. “No, he’s not…”

“Home is where your family is. And family is people you love and want to keep safe. You’re my Jack, you keep me and Mac safe. And I keep you safe. But Mac can’t be with us _because_ he’s keeping us safe.” 

“That’s right,” Jack affirms quietly, mentally reeling. Blindsided by a conversational twist he didn't see coming.  


“So how can we be home if we aren’t with him? How can he be home if he isn't with us?"  


“Is that what’s been bothering you?”

AJ shrugs. “You said someday we would go home. To Mac. But then you called here home. And Mac isn’t here.”

“I guess it’s more complicated than I thought,” Jack tightens his arms around AJ. Both his boys have hearts too big. “There are times when we can’t be with all of the people we love. And that’s hard. It can hurt,” he taps AJ’s chest, “right here. But if we think about him and talk about him, it doesn’t seem like he’s as far away.”

“But he’s alone. Like I was.” 

The words are so matter-of-fact. Emotionless but Jack gasps like he’s been shot. He cradles the back of AJ’s head, tugging him closer and pulling the boy against his chest. Pressing a kiss into his hair as tears flood his eyes. “Oh. AJ. Baby,” he breathes. 

AJ squirms out of Jack’s embrace, quirking an eyebrow as he sits up. “How does he know that we’re thinking about him?”

Jack scrubs a hand across his scruff, trying to rein in his emotions. AJ isn’t looking for an emotional response. He’s looking for facts. 

“Well, the same way that I know he’s thinking about us. Because we love him and he loves us.”

AJ considers the words. “So, he just... knows?”

“He knows,” Jack nods. 

“But- “ AJ pauses. Jack can see the wheels turning in his little blond head. Mac always had difficulties with this too, processing his feelings. Preferring facts, logic, something measurable. 

Observable.  


And the doubt, niggles in the back of Jack's mind. An earworm he can't ignore. Does Mac know? Of course, Jack tries to shut down that intrusive thought before it can lay down roots. But as time goes on, the longer Mac spends alone, will he still remember? Even though Mac shoved AJ into his arms and told him to go, will he forget that Jack chose him too?  


Jack tilts his head back, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He can't stumble now. They're worked so hard to cover their trail, to sever the ties with... home and disappear. This past summer can't be in vain. He can't undermine the sacrifice now, by reaching out to Mac to make sure he knows that he's loved. That though they're separated, he's not forgotten. Jack takes another calming breath and opens his eyes. 

“Hey, look at that,” Jack gestures towards the lightening sky. “The stars are gone. I wonder where they go when it’s not nighttime?”

AJ huffs at the intrusion into his thoughts. “They don’t go anywhere. They’re still there.”

“Really? Even when I can’t see ‘em?”

Another, bigger sigh and Jack resists the urge to smile. “Yes, Jack. They’re still there.”

Jack hums. “How do you _know?_ How do you know they're still there when I can't see them?”

“Because…” AJ’s brows lower as he begins to catch on. 

“I guess it’s kind of like how I know that Mac knows we love him. Just cause I can’t see him, that doesn’t go away. Can’t see the stars right now either, but they’re still up there. Doesn't stop them from shining just cause it's daylight."  


“Well, it’s only sort of the same…" AJ wavers. "Jack?”

“Yeah, babycakes?”

“He can see the same stars that we can, right?”

“Sure can. Same sky. Same stars.”

“And he’s really smart.”

“He sure is.”

AJ nods, laying his head down to rest on Jack’s chest again. “Well, maybe, if we’re looking at the stars and thinking about him, he’ll look up at them and think of us.” 

Another wave of emotions washes over Jack. 

"Yeah,” Jack whispers around the lump in his throat, stroking AJ’s back. “Yeah, I bet he will.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone who has indulged me in this universe. I know you are all anxiously awaiting the successful completion of Mac's mission so he can be reunited with Jack and AJ. I am too. But this is me we're talking about. We've got to sufficiently milk the angst before we get there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Cygnus the Swan (also called The Northern Cross) is a summer constellation.  
> Deneb makes up the tail. It is the most distant star in our sky and one of the most active. It has featured in Star Trek, Babylon 5 and Isaac Asimov stories.  
> Albireo is a binary star making up the "beak" of Cygnus (I don't see it, but okay). In my mild synesthesia, I assign the colors Yellow and Blue to Mac and Jack respectively so reading about this most "striking contrasting pair" of stars in our sky, my brain assigned these stars to our boys.  
> The Gemini Twins are a winter constellation (if you're in the Northern hemisphere). No worries Jack, you can start seeing them as early as September if you know where to look.


End file.
